


Red As

by springgreen



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Chromatic Character, Chromatic Source, First Time, Gift Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-26
Updated: 2005-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:26:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springgreen/pseuds/springgreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard now to think that he's spent thousands and thousands of seconds not touching Gojyo before this, and that he had been all right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red As

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thuvia ptarth (thuviaptarth)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thuviaptarth/gifts).



> Happy Hanukkah, Thuvia Ptarth!
> 
> Yes, I have written slash for the first time ever. But.. Hakkai and Gojyo! How could I not?
> 
> Many thanks to chi_zu, Fannishly, e^y and Edo no Hana for the beta! (yes, I was very paranoid)

Hakkai isn't quite sure how he ended up on Gojyo's bed. He's lying on his back, hands clasped, staring at the ceiling, like he does sometimes. Only this time, Gojyo's sprawled over a good two-thirds of the bed, one arm over the edge, a leg tangled in Hakkai's. And of course, there's the fact that they're both naked.

He remembers all of it, of course. There was Gojyo's drunken kiss, then the not-so-drunken pause afterward, when all they could do was stare at each other. Hakkai had been confused—rightly so, given that Gojyo's drunken kisses were usually bestowed on more buxom creatures than Hakkai—but not so confused that he hadn't enjoyed himself. And while he could smell the beer on Gojyo, the pause and subsequent staring made Gojyo seem much more sober than Hakkai had expected. Not that he had been paying quite that much attention to Gojyo's state of inebriation. He had been a little distracted.

He shivers when he remembers Gojyo's hands beneath his shirt, in his hair, icy cold in the beginning, either because of the rain outside or the beer cans. They warmed up soon enough. Hakkai thinks his hair may smell a little of tobacco now.

The strangest thing is that Gojyo is the one whose hands shook, Gojyo is the one who was clumsy with his kisses after the first, and not because of the alcohol. Hakkai merely remembers being irritated by layers of clothing, because it meant a few more seconds he would spend not touching Gojyo.

It's hard now to think that he's spent thousands and thousands of seconds not touching Gojyo before this, and that he had been all right.

Gojyo rolls over in bed, or at least makes an attempt to, and ends up flinging more limbs over Hakkai. Gojyo's red hair is in his eyes, and Hakkai thinks that this is so different from sharing a bed with Kanan...

And he stops thinking and starts remembering, really remembering—

—her hair curls through his fingers, her face a blur above his, she laughs as he fumbles, pretending he can't find her without his glasses on—

—how neatly she fits in his arms, he can wrap himself around her and shield her from the world, he sneaks up to give her hugs—

—knife in her hands, farewell in her eyes, can't reach her through the bars, hands too stained, can't touch her, but there's blood everywhere anyway—

—Hakkai bolts straight up in the bed, dislodging Gojyo, who simply flops back down and snores in protest.

He doesn't know what to do, so he pulls on his pants and heads toward the door, ignoring the voice in the back of his head, which tells him that he can't keep running away. He killed Gonou, buried him beneath the monocle and the smile, but some things just won't stay dead. Maybe he's just like Chin Yisou, a corpse rotting away behind the facade, held together only by vengeance and the will to live.

Or maybe it's the facade that's rotten and the inside that's bleeding and torn, because he hurts again, and he had thought, stupidly, blindly, that it wouldn't hurt like this again. He feels youkai claws slicing through his abdomen _knife in her gut_ entrails spilling into the dirt _unborn halfbreed in a pool of blood_ hell greeting him with a smile _she's cold and dead, dead, dead_.

Hakkai stands at the door, one foot in, one foot out. He's frozen, it's too much, he can't decide. He's asked for Kanan's forgiveness before, for letting Gonou die, for living his own life. He's not sure if he can ask a third time. He's not sure if he can forgive himself, for forgetting, for letting himself be hurt, for bringing this into his life again.

He's almost convinced himself, almost stepped out, but not quite. If he leaves... He can't bear the thought of leaving, of losing this impromptu family of his. He can see them going on without him, Gojyo and Goku arguing, Sanzo glaring malevolently at them, but it's Hakkai who can't stand to let this happen. He's caught now, tangled in the fights and the tightly disguised affection, by Goku's hunger and openness, by Sanzo's misanthropy, by Gojyo. And it's almost enough to make him believe that he can have this.

He leans against the door frame, lets his head drop down, tries to steel himself.

"Hey."

It's Gojyo, staring at him from the bed, disheveled and tousled.

"Hey, would ya stop staring at your hands all the frickin' time? Creeps me out," he says.

Hakkai startles, resolve and concentration broken. He is staring at his hands, come to think of it. He thought he had stopped after—

"What, did that line Goku drew on you finally wash off?"

—after Goku and Sanzo and Gojyo.

"No," says Hakkai slowly. "Well, yes, it did after a few weeks. I thought you were asleep."

"I was, 'til some guy crawled out of bed and let in all the cold air," Gojyo says. He shoots Hakkai an accusatory glare.

"You leavin'?" Gojyo asks.

Hakkai makes himself meet Gojyo's eyes, which aren't accusatory anymore. They're also not as casual as the question sounds, and this time, Hakkai remembers a hand pulling him out of the mud on a rainy day, dirty dishes in the sink that need cleaning, people to feed, a cold, sloppy kiss and the taste of beer and cigarette smoke in his mouth.

"No," says Hakkai, even more slowly. "No. I was just... thinking."

"Yeah?"

"Maybe this isn't for me."

He almost misses Gojyo's small flinch, but it's difficult to live with someone for so long without learning something about him.

"Gojyo. It's not you—" he begins.

"Don't make me have to go knock some sense into you," Gojyo says, but he's not looking at Hakkai.

It's rather disconcerting to hear Gojyo speak of inflicting bodily damage only half-heartedly.

Hakkai smiles and heads back to bed. He sits, feels Gojyo's body curve in toward his.

"Maybe," he says, very carefully not staring at his hands, or at anything, really, "...maybe I shouldn't be too happy."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Gojyo says.

Hakkai isn't particularly surprised by Gojyo's response, but all the same, he falls silent. And one more time, maybe one last time, he asks for Kanan's forgiveness for allowing himself not just to live without her, but to be happy without her.

Then he leans down to kiss Gojyo and tries to take off his pants at the same time, neither of which ends well. But it's all right, this is right, Gojyo's right. He belongs here with these broken, patched-together people, and maybe, just maybe, they need him too.

He's got Gojyo's head resting on his chest and strands of Gojyo's hair caught between his fingers. He stares at his hands again, and finally, the red isn't blood on his hands or guilt in his heart. It's Gojyo's hair and Gojyo's eyes, and it's more than enough.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Chancing Happiness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19198) by [Jain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jain/pseuds/Jain)




End file.
